Onvyr handed it over to Mormo. “I tried to fight back, but he had a bunch of undead magir and animals on my island. He killed so many. Even ones that weren’t fierce, from the more peaceful side of the island.”
The dark elf had shiny eyes, and Val realized he looked ready to cry.
The big, tough warrior loved his creatures, and that knowledge made her feel for him. Rolf and Khent didn’t seem upset by the news.
Empathizing, she moved to pat Onvyr on the shoulder and ignored his flinch.
“Thanks, Val.” He gave her a tremulous smile before leaving the room.
She tried not to feel hurt. He had experienced loss. But that flinch had been fear of her. Of a necromancer. Not surprising, considering what he’d just gone through with Vladimir.
Except every time she thought she started to fit in, she’d be reminded she didn’t.
She tuned out much of the chatter, trying to focus on the real reason she’d come here. Not to be a vampire’s plaything, no matter how great the sex was. Or how much she was coming to care for the stern reaper, which made no sense when she studied her feelings. She didn’t even really know the guy.
Their common purpose had fooled her into thinking they might have more in common. That they might even become friends.
Fucking and friendship didn’t have to intertwine. She’d been lucky enough to have that with Talon once. That didn’t mean?—
“Valentine. You are unwell?”
She blinked up at Khent, unnerved to find him in her personal space. When she tried to push him back a pace, he took hold of her arm. He didn’t flinch or step back.
That settled her, oddly enough. “Um, sorry. It’s been an ordeal. They rifled through all my things. I can’t tell you what they took.”
“I know.” Khent frowned. “Mormo told us this.”
“Oh.” She blushed, having spaced out over stupid hurt feelings. “Right. So what’s up with you guys?” She sensed something off about him and Rolf.
Looking harder at the pair, she reached out and traced a film of shadow that clung to them both. “What is this?”
“What’s what?” Khent peered at himself and Rolf. “I see nothing but an idiotic draugr and his superior.”
“Suck it, reaper.” Rolf stuck up his middle finger.
Mormo swore and tossed the staff. “It’s fake.” He joined Val in studying Khent and Rolf. “Ah, I see it.” He glanced at Val. “How curious you do as well. That second sight isn’t something humans can reach.”
She shrugged. “It’s something I’ve always been able to see.”
Mormo seemed intrigued but said nothing more, moving back to study the vampires.
“Wait,” Rolf said. “What do you mean the staff is fake? Does that mean we fought Vladimir for nothing? Not that I’m complaining, but he put up a pretty good fight for it.”
“No. I’m saying that this staff is powerless.”
“Not possible.” Khent went to pick it up and crushed it in his fist, breaking the staff in two. His expression darkened. “Mormo, the staff at Belyy Zamok was real. This is not.”
“Wait a minute. They pulled a switch?” Rolf nodded, looking impressed. “Wow. I didn’t even catch that.”
“Had to be when they were fighting Onvyr.” Khent grimaced.
Val sensed more they weren’t saying, but she couldn’t take her gaze from the weird dimness creeping over Khent. She didn’t like it.
“I don’t like this,” Mormo said, and she wondered if he could read minds as well.
“Which this?” she asked. “The staff being a fake or this residue that doesn’t belong?”
“Both. And the fact Morpheus fucked us over.”
